


Reckless: A Romy and Laurence Fanfic

by LeBrun007



Category: Dress Up! Time Princess (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeBrun007/pseuds/LeBrun007
Summary: A sequel to the ending "Blessed Citizens"
Relationships: Romy-Laurence
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Apothecary

Reckless  
A Sequel to the Ending “Blessed Citizens” Romy and Julius Fanfic

Chapter 1: Apothecary  
Romy treasured the quiet hours of the morning now more than ever. She mentally rehearsed their itinerary for the day as she made preparations. Though certainly, things could and would change often. Most early morning hours she tended their herbal garden outside the little cottage where her father had once sent her for refuge. Now it was her and Laurence’s home. When it was cold and the garden slumbered, she took inventory in their little cellar and made kitchen preparations of the herbs that Laurence had taught her. They usually had a list of deliveries to make in town each day as they rounded between patients’ homes and the church.  
There was always some emergency that called Laurence away from their regular patients it seemed. But the smaller things and follow-up changes of bandages and such she could manage on her own.  
Francesca was nearing the birth of her third child and the baby could be due any day now, so Romy anticipated being interrupted at any time now. Lucetta also was nearing term, but not as far along. Romy hoped that her child would wait.  
Signore Mercutio and his wife had the ague. They required a regimen of grapefruit extract alternated with ginger tea. They had very little sweet wormwood extract left from the Oriental traders, but Laurence had taught her that this was best for treating seasonal cases of fever that most often developed around ethers that arose near stagnated waters. Verona was affected by this illness seasonally but less so than southern Italian cities such as Rome. Signore Mercutio and his wife had just returned from the Vatican, and likely were afflicted from the unclean ethers they encountered during their travel.  
Mercutio was a good natured man and always joked, no matter how nasty the tonic was that she forced him to take. His wife, was generally gracious and good natured, though she seemed much quieted and more affected by the illness. In her feverish state she kept saying some disturbing things about a greater darkness coming upon them. She called it a “blight upon Christendom.” Romy shivered, recalling her own encounter with Escalus. Every day she thanked God that she and Laurence still lived to share their little cottage together and visit their neighbors. She did her best to reassure Signore Mercutio and his wife, and attributed her ramblings to the fever, but Signore Mercutio was quite lucid when he gripped Romy by the arm and admonished her with an earnest warning: the calm and peace that they now experienced was as still waters before a storm.  
She promised him that Laurence would visit to discuss with them and the Bishop when they were recovered. This seemed to satisfy Mercutio, but he still would not tell Romy what else he knew. Romy sighed. No matter how useful she tried to make herself, people still tried to skirt around her and protect her by going directly to Laurence.  
She wasn’t the silly spoiled girl that she had once been. While many noble women in the city shunned her for marrying “down” in the social stratus, she was happy and conducted herself with dignity. Most of the citizens saw that and welcomed her and Laurence with trust.  
Romy tried to push her unease about Mercutio’s admonishment aside and ran her finger down the list as she placed another vial into her delivery basket. 

Next there was Benvolio who had chronic rheumatism. He would meet her by the church at noon to pick up his tincture of willow bark. Romy had it readied, and went over her list of herbs to replenish in their little apothecary shop.  
Chamomile tea and eucalyptus oil with camphor incense for those with shortness of breath.  
Honey and white flowering marrubium extract could be hardened into little candied lozenges for those with cough or sore throat.  
Romy had enjoyed learning how to take care of the bee hives behind the abbey in order to harvest the honey. Most people used honey in cooking and drank it with their tea, or ate it plain with bread, but the churches’ honey most often was used in Laurence’s poultices for burn wounds and for the little candied lozenges that were so effective for cough during the winter months.  
She had just replaced the jar of lozenges on the shelf when a young man breathlessly ran into her house without knocking.  
“Signore Rosetti has cut himself on the scythe! His blood is gushing out everywhere!” The youth was pale as a sheet.  
This would be a job for Laurence. He was already awake and grabbing his coat as he followed the young man out the door. He placed a quick peck on Romy’s cheek as he added, “You have the deliveries my dear!” And just like that, he was out the door again and she had no idea how long he would be gone. But it would be selfish to object. His was not a work that could wait, and so she waved goodbye to wish him well though no one was watching as they hurried off to help Signore Rosetti. 

Romy leaned against the church wall at noon waiting for Benvolio. She closed her eyes momentarily as she leaned back and tilted her head skyward. Echoes of Laurence’s chanting and the demon’s shrieks filled her mind.  
Signora Romy?” It was Benvolio. “Signora! You’ve got to come quick! It’s Lucetta! Her baby’s come early! Much too early!”  
Romy’s blood ran cold. She had always assisted Laurence since their marriage. She boiled bandages and made sure that the women were comfortable. She made dwale, a potent sedative derived of nightshade, henbane, or opium diluted in spirits, to ease the pain for surgical patients but no anesthetic was given to the women in childbirth. No matter how difficult the labor, dwale was feared as it could weaken their ability to birth the child if the mother lost consciousness.  
“N-now?” Romy stammered. Why oh why now? Laurence was still helping the injured Signore Rosetti. Romy almost wished they had traded places. Truly, tying a bandage around a wound and placing stitches couldn’t be that much different than sewing, right? But now here she was, being asked to do the work of a midwife and deliver this baby on her own. “Is there no one else?” She voiced her question silently, only in her mind. She already knew that there wasn’t anyone else to help.  
“Alright. I’ll come. Let us hope that Laurence comes back soon. I’ll help with the preparations.” 

Romy followed Benvolio to his grand daughter Lucetta’s house. It was her first child.  
“Is there nothing you can give me to keep the baby from coming so early?” She cried……  
“What were you doing, working in the kitchen like that-you started the labor……” Her husband was scolding, panicked.  
“That won’t help,” she placed her hand upon his arm with a tone of soft reprimand.  
Lucetta was clearly going to have her baby now as these contractions were happening stronger and more frequently.  
Romy helped her to a cot in the foyer room as she could not make it to the bed. Romy gave her a pillow to lift her head, and started the bandages boiling. This was the part that always made her feel sick to watch, and she didn’t know how she would manage it alone.  
The baby was breach and had to be turned. Out of necessity, Romy did not wait for Laurence. She could see Signora Lucetta’s distress and was so overcome with concern for her, she overcame her own aversion. She delivered the baby and cut the cord.  
The child was small and didn’t cry at first but Romy clapped her on the back and the squalor of a newborn baby girl rang out through the little cottage.  
“Here you are, Romy wiped the baby girl down and placed her across her mother’s chest. “No matter how exhausted you both are, she needs to nurse right away. Although I’ll see if I can find a wet nurse who can help. Little babies born so early have trouble nursing. But keep her elevated like this against you, see?” Romy helped the tearful Lucetta as she smiled to take her newborn daughter. 

Romy winced a little, blinking back tears and a sending up a silent prayer that the little girl would survive. Many people did not name their children until they were older. The infant mortality rate was too high.  
But Lucetta placed her hand over Romy’s wrist…….”We will call her Rosemary, for you Romy,” She smiled. “Thank you, thank you so much! She will make it. I know she will.” Lucetta leaned back with a sigh and Benvolio placed a hand on Romy’s shoulder.  
“I’ll help you with the rest of your deliveries Signora Romy. My old bones feel better if I keep moving anyhow! You should go home and rest.”  
Romy nodded as Benvolio helped her onto the seat of his little wagon. Everything was clearly labeled in the basket and she trusted the elder gentleman to help her finish her deliveries.  
“I can’t…..I can’t go home and rest just yet! She told him. Can you please take me to the silk mill?”  
Her father had left her the foundation of the family business, even as smaller businesses and assets were divided amongst other male relatives. Senior Capulet did the same, and this helped to lessen the feud and hastened its resolution. Julius had not stayed in Verona, but abdicated his inheritance after Romy married Laurence. Senior Capulet had hoped for a merger of the Capulet and Montague empires, but it was not to be. And after all that had happened, he acquiesced and was simply grateful that his son was still alive to pursue any endeavor his heart desired. Romy was grateful that he relented and gave his blessing to Julius before he left to become a traveling fencing instructor for noble families across Europe. He had always loved to travel. And he had also made amends with Paris, who now in his right mind was working on governing Verona in a peaceful manner. He worked as feverishly as Romy, far more in fact, as if trying to atone for his past misdeeds.  
He always looked tired and his eyes always looked sad or hollow. Romy no longer hated him, but felt a shred of sympathy for the man who once tried to kill her.  
Laurence was no businessman, but he still sat on the council of city advisors with Paris. And the silk mill was an important piece of Verona’s infrastructure. And the reality was, that while the property legally was deeded to Laurence, Romy over saw most of its operation.  
She made all the decisions for hiring and dismissing employees, had recently chosen to expand and improve employee housing, and chosen to employ widows and single young women who were without family support.  
She ran her hands over the silk threads, which once woven and then split, would make lush velvet that could be embossed and set into the finest gowns or used as upholstery for finely crafted carriages and furniture.  
Romy ran her fingers down the hem of an emerald green velvet brocade. She missed wearing these fine things at times. But now she was afraid she had let her father down. They were losing the tariff war with the guild of silk merchants in Florence, and they had been affected by an early cold snap that caused the loss of most of their silk worms this year. The Medici family grew more powerful, and Romy was tired of feuds. They simply could not maintain their production and even if they could, the small amount of silk and velvet they managed to produce would be too expensive to export to other Italian cities thanks to the Florentine merchant’s guild. 

She sighed with sadness feeling that perhaps her father was wrong to entrust her with what had once been the cornerstone of their family business. She hated the idea of dismissing any of her workers, but she didn’t know how, under present circumstances she could keep them. She did not want to turn any of them out into the cold. Maybe some of them could find temporary refuge in the Abbey and help with the orchards and vineyards? The Abbey’s winery also suffered from the sudden weather change, and she didn’t know if the church lacked funds to assist. 

What if, what if they used the opportunity to shift their trade elsewhere? Romy shifted through correspondence that she had received recently from France. She dipped her quill pen into the ink well and agreed to sell their silk worm production to the young investor in Tours.  
She wept a little when the letter was complete. She hoped that the little caterpillars could be resilient as the climate in France was considered harsh compared to the more “mild” climate of Verona. She wrote to the investor what they had learned about how to keep them alive and when to harvest and move them toward their “season” based upon local climate. She wished him good success, and thanked him, for he was paying her for this starting supply of silk worms and a hefty price for the centuries’ old secrets as well.  
With the amount that he paid, she would have enough to satisfy their debts within the city and to provide each worker an ample amount of severance pay to assist with their relocation. She imagined many would relocate to Tours as silk making was a rather rare and refined skill. She gritted her teeth a little knowing that others would move to Florence and work for their once opponents, but it couldn’t be helped.  
Everyone needed to earn a living, and she needed more time to focus on her efforts assisting Laurence and the church. They had been so busy, she didn’t know how they would ever find time to raise a family of their own. 

Although, thinking back to what she had witnessed this afternoon with Lucetta, Romy wasn’t sure she was overly eager to take on the experience personally any time soon.  
She placed a hand subconsciously over her abdomen wondering……she had felt queasy after mass but she hadn’t said anything to Laurence yet. She didn’t want to tell him anything until she was certain. 

“Are you ready, Signora Romy?” Benvolio waited tiredly with hat in his hand beside his little wagon. It was already late, night was already falling.”  
“Yes, I’m ready. Thank you Signore Benvolio, please take me home.”  
The elderly man gave a quip “geddup!” and lightly flounced the reins and the little pony dutifully trudged back to her cottage outside of town. The carriage bumped and lurched and Romy felt a strange fluttering within. She thought perhaps she was nervous because of the day’s events, but when she stepped out she felt a little light headed.  
She thanked Benvolio for waiting for her all day and attempted to give him a tip, but he refused, saying that his willow bark tincture was payment enough for the day’s efforts. Romy nodded in agreement and made her way into the cottage forlorn.  
Laurence was already back, and he had stirred up some stew in the kitchen.  
“Here, drink this,” he pressed a warm mug into her hand.  
“You don’t look well!” He placed the back of his hand against her forehead to ensure she wasn’t taking feverishness herself.  
“No, no, I’m fine.” She reassured him as she held her mug up to hide her weary -half smile, looking again, like a squirrel, he reminded her.  
“I sold the silk mill to the young man in Tours,” she said abjectly after a moment.  
Laurence brow instantly furrowed, but he nodded in thoughtful understanding…….”And?” he asked rightly sensing there was more or someone had already told him, Romy was not sure……….  
“It seems to me that Lucetta’s baby is doing well, thanks to you!” Laurence wrapped his arm around her proudly. “I stopped by on my way home and they told me all about it.”  
He smiled, but he knew that the day had taken a toll on her.  
“I never thought that mid wifery would be an undertaking you would choose to pursue, but again, I continue to underestimate my brilliant, brave, reckless wife.” He nudged her playfully.  
“Well it wasn’t as though the baby could wait for you!” She laughed with a half hearted sigh.  
“No, I suppose not. And after Signore Rosetti’s wound was sutured, I had to perform another surgery.”  
“What?” Romy set her cup down so abruptly a little soup splashed out. Laurence took the ladle and replenished her cup.  
“Francesca wasn’t doing well……..I had to do something very rash and I thank God that both she and the baby survived as few such instances have ever been recorded. I performed the ceasarean operation.”  
Romy gasped. Most of the time this operation was only done to save a living child from a dead mother.  
“Was her condition so grave?” Romy’s voice quavered.  
“I really thought we were going to lose them both,” Laurence looked so worried even still. Tired tears brimmed upon his eyes at the re-telling. “She begged me to do it, I had no choice but to give her the dwale and dare to do the procedure…….without her husband’s permission as he wasn’t home.”  
Romy instantly understood. They could take legal action against Laurence if either the mother or child did not survive. But Laurence had never been one to back down from what he felt was right, no matter how slim a chance or faint a sliver of hope remained, he would always take the chance to save a life.  
“And you call me reckless,” Romy clucked her tongue at him, sounding a bit like a chicken. “I wasn’t the one who tested out that potion for Julius on my self !” She goaded him. She was still angry that he tested it first on himself, never worrying about how sad she would be if he suddenly turned up dead for no apparent reason.  
The truth was, they were both reckless. But neither of them would still be here if they weren’t.  
“Reckless?” Laurence smirked a little bit. If both mother and child survived it would be one of the few recorded cases in human history. But Laurence wouldn’t be one to brag, even if the story got out, as it was bound to do, he wouldn’t develop an inflated ego. He knew that whatever he accomplished was by God’s grace. He would remain that same humble, if not slightly brooding and sarcastic Laurence that she knew and loved.  
Now it was her turn to envelope him in a hug. She wrapped both arms around his waist and leaned her chin on his shoulder. He held both of her hands in his and leaned in to give her a kiss.  
“I love you, recklessly,” he whispered.  
Romy relaxed, all the tension of the day draining away. With Laurence at her side, at the end of every day, her heart was full and she knew that she had found her home.


	2. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little romantic fluff in between serious scenes

Chapter 2  
Remembrance

Romy tossed and turned in the night. She mumbled faintly, struggling.   
Memories of other lives, other people flooded her mind. There was a man named Paris with her, and she felt that she knew him but it was not the Paris that Romy knew in Verona……..  
The acrid smell of smoke hung heavy on the air. And she choked. Her beloved city was under siege…..but it wasn’t Verona……it was Troy!  
The scene shifted and suddenly panoramic visions of a mob in front of Versailles…….  
She stifled a sob…..now Paris was a City. A City in flames.   
“No! Paris no!” Romy cried out with visions of a life that had never been hers.   
“Romy! Romy! Wake up!” Laurence shook her shoulders insistently.   
Romy instantly crumbled into his warm embrace, his quiet strength soothing her.   
“What were you dreaming?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.   
Romy hesitated. She wasn’t sure. The dreams had been so vivid. And suddenly she was overcome with the strangest sense that her life was not her own. That she had once been other people, and always, no matter how long she lingered in any place, she feared that she could be snatched out at any moment and severed from all those she cared about. Nothing that she had really belonged to her.  
There was an aching, a void, a nameless fear. No matter how long she lingered in any place, as soon as her work was done, she was gone again.   
“Normally I would be angry to hear you mutter another man’s name in your sleep,” Laurence teased at jealousy, but he knew that she harbored no romantic feelings for this Paris. “What happened?” He prompted again, a little more gently even though he remained insistent.   
Romy shuttered at the foreign sensation of being someone else. Had all those other “memories” really happened?   
“I don’t know….”She answered truthfully as Romy was unable to comprehend what she had dreamed or what she had remembered. “All I know is that I never want to leave you,” she snuggled down closer to him and warm tears ran down her face.   
Laurence gently brushed the tears away and kissed the top of her hair.  
“I won’t ever leave you.” He promised. Then he added something strange. “In heaven I would wait for you, because it would never be complete without you. In hades I would find you and we would leave together. Our souls are bound together not just for this lifetime, but for eternity, Romy.”   
She wasn’t sure that he had really said all this or that she was dreaming again. Peace enveloped her. She always feared that somehow, she would leave Laurence before she really died. Not leave him for another person, but that somehow “she” whoever that was, would be absent and this other Romy would go on loving him in her place. But was the friend that Laurence grew to love really Romy or this other “her?”   
Names surfaced in her mind. Marie. Helen. Elizabeth Colvin. Gina.   
Who were these other people? They were her……they were all her…… and always she fell in love with the same eyes. Even when they changed color, they were the same. That same presence that now enveloped her. And suddenly the visions didn’t trouble her anymore. Even though she was half asleep and couldn’t make sense of them. She no longer struggled or grappled against the memory like dream.   
She simply melted into that presence that she loved and went back to sleep. 

The next morning, Laurence was awake before she was. She panicked.   
“Laurence! It’s Sunday! We should be already at the church!” Romy stumbled out of her bed and almost tripped head long. Laurence caught her, splashing a little apple cider out of the mug on the tray that he was brining for her.   
“I know, it’s alright, Romy.” He lifted her up and back into bed. “The Arch deacon will be leading the services today. And your mother and father will help with the dinner after service. I told them you were not well and I’m staying to look after you.”   
Romy felt guilty causing him to neglect his church duties.   
Laurence pulled the blankets back across her lap and set down at her feet, sharing the tray between them.   
“Do not feel guilty, my love. Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, not another day of work……” He placed the back of his hand over her forehead again.   
Romy trembled a little and she didn’t know why. She clutched the mug in her squirrel like fashion, her eyes distant. She drank a little of the warm cider mixture, and closed her eyes and sighed.   
“Thank you, Laurence.” She placed her hand atop his.   
He took her hand in his own, and traced her fingers lightly.   
“I fear I have been so busy caring for everyone else, I have neglected you, Romy.” Laurence choked softly. “Are you certain you are well?”   
He thought perhaps she was having more nightmares about Escalus and Paris’ attack in the church.   
“I do not know,” Romy answered honestly.   
Laurence was taken aback. It was so uncharacteristic an admission; he had expected her usual playful retort. His mouth open slightly, he waited for her to continue.   
“I keep having these visions…..visions of other people’s past and future…..I am not sure what it means……It is just all so clear, and so frightening…..There is always smoke and fire………”   
Laurence continued to hold her trembling hand. He wanted to kiss her forehead and smooth away the troubled expression that lined her brow, but he waited.   
“Maybe…..the spirits are trying to tell you something important……” Laurence ventured.   
“It doesn’t feel like someone else’s restless spirit though, Laurence…….it’s like it’s me, but a different me…..trapped over and over again in this endless cycle of violence……. All I want is peace!” She stifled a sob and tears threatened to well up again.   
Laurence didn’t know how to comfort her with this, so he switched into his physician mode and began checking her pulse. It was rapid, of course- what did he expect?   
“Don’t work in the garden this morning, ok? I want you to stay in here……”  
“No-Laurence, it will help if I can busy my hands….”  
“Shush-No…..” he held one finger out lightly before her.   
Romy fell back asleep. This time, she slept deeply without dreaming. When she awoke again, she caught the scent of roses in her room…….  
Roses reminded her of Julius. And Julius reminded her of Bellona.   
Laurence had cut a few roses from the bush Julius had given her for the garden. It was the only non-medicinal and non-food bearing plant in their garden. Each Sunday, Romy always took a single rose and left it on Bellona’s memorial.   
Laurence had brought her three. These would be the last for the year. The bush had to be trimmed back for autumn and soon winter would descend upon Verona. And while Verona was famed for it’s mild climate, they could always expect a little snow being just south of the Alps.   
Romy loved winter and the glisten of soft, silent snow fall. But now she worried because she couldn’t simply stay inside all winter as she had previously been accustomed. She used to long for the chance to go out to playfully and recklessly slide in the snow. She and Laurence would throw snow balls at one another or go ice skating as children.   
Now, winter snow meant hazardous travel conditions to help a mother in labor or a sick patient in the midst of the storm or the dead of night. Laurence wouldn’t always permit her to accompany him, and she would worry each time he left that he might not make it back.   
Her face fell. Why couldn’t things stay as simple as in childhood?  
“Awww… the roses did not cheer you up?” Laurence asked. “I should have picked up a puppy or a kitten……” He shook his head.  
Romy threw a punch at him playfully.   
Suddenly, she felt queasy again. “Laurence!” She yelped as she bolted past him for the bedpan.   
“Romy!” He turned white as a sheet……. “Are you?” The question hung suspended in mid air but they both suspected.   
Laurence was worried and elated all at once.   
“I’m sorry you are sick, but if it is what I think it means, then I am very happy……..” He placed a cool cloth along the back of her neck. He tried to take her back to the bed, but she refused.   
“I must get up and walk around a little,” she steadied herself against him.   
“I’ll get some ginger tea. That will help……..I’m sure the cider I made earlier only made the morning sickness worse,” Laurence shook his head in wondrous disbelief.   
“What will I do if you are on a house call, delivering someone else’s child when ours comes?” She plaintively wailed.   
“That will not happen.” Laurence spun the kitchen table chair around so that he was sitting on it backwards, his arms resting over the back of the chair. He tapped his hands emphatically. “We will have the midwife from the next town over help provide coverage……She also has a new trainee……..”  
He stood up so the chair was no longer in between them. “I will be right where I should be,” he said, taking her hands in his own, and looking her squarely in the eyes. He tilted her chin up to meet his, and Romy kissed him and then leaned her head against his chest, her head nestled in the space underneath his chin and along his shoulder. He danced with her slowly back and forth across the kitchen.   
He was not a graceful dancer like Julius, even when he tried to sway very slowly to avoid making her more nauseous. Romy suppressed a chortle at their awkwardness, and she spun around lightly forgetting her morning sickness, her nightgown furled out behind her.   
She laughed carefree of how ridiculous her hair looked, how ridiculous they looked in general. If only the people of Verona knew just how childish their serious, solemn couple of healers could be……  
And Laurence did not have to be a doctor to heal her heart. His presence mended wounds that she did not even understand she carried.   
When they stopped dancing and spinning because Romy was light headed, she asked him. “Do you want a boy or a girl?” Not that they really had a say in the matter; they would be grateful for whatever the Lord sent.   
“I was hoping for a little girl,” Laurence replied without reservation.   
“Oh?” Romy was a surprised.   
“And that is just what we will call her………Hope.” Laurence had already decided on the name then. Without even consulting her? She couldn’t argue, so she came up with a playful retort. “Whatever sentimental name will you contrive if it’s a boy?” She shoved him teasingly and he laughed. A sound far too rare, and Romy cherished it in her heart.


	3. Rumors of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercutio's warning is fast becoming fulfilled as conflict develops on the horizon. Romy and Laurence become parents amidst strife in their small town.

Romy was nearing her final term. Her bodice no longer fit properly, no matter how she loosened the laces. She waddled about shuffling slowly and pausing often. She laughed at herself, thinking she must look like a penguin. She said so aloud to Laurence, who laughed, and asked “What is a penguin?”   
“Birds that live in the frozen south; they can’t fly, they can only swim and waddle…..” Romy answered, not knowing how she knew that.   
Had anyone even gone south to Australia or Antarctica in this time period?  
“You have the most fantastical imagination, my love,” Laurence kissed the top of her head.   
“Do you have to go?” Romy sighed.   
She hated spending so much time alone in the cottage. It reminded her of when she first went into hiding here. And while Verona was at peace for now, she felt that it wouldn’t last long.   
Mercutio was right. A conflict was brewing and threatening to spill across the Italian peninsula.   
The Pope had not received his rightful due from Naples, and so now he excommunicated the former leader of the prominent city and awarded it ironically to a French Valois King.   
Valois…….Why was that name so familiar?   
Names from her past or Romy’s future, names that she shouldn’t know came flooding to her mind. Something about a woman named Jeanne de Valois St. Remy-Comtesse de la Motte and a necklace starting a riot…….  
Romy shook her head, trying to clear her clouded mind. Was she really just imaginative? Perhaps she was slowly going insane?  
The Spanish -Hapsburg Alliance out of Austria, the new Holy Roman Empire was threatening to fight France for control of the Italian Peninsula. The city of Milan seemed to swing from side to side as their leading ducal family offered daughters in marriage to both opponents. The League of Venice had been formed to defend Italy, but already there was word that 30,000 troops were on the way to Naples. From there might they not move on to sack Verona, Milan, Venice, and even Rome itself?   
Why would the Father of the Church make such a decision that would goad these two powers into fighting?   
France’s motivation was clear. France had been part of the first Holy Roman Empire, and now they were surrounded by enemies on all sides. Capturing Italy would strengthen their position.   
Hapsburgs……..Hadn’t Marie been a Hapsburg?   
“Penny for your thoughts?” Laurence thunked her lightly between her eyes, as he was accustomed to doing.   
Marie……No, Romy…….blinked back into “her” present. Were all these stories, all these dreams and other lives connected?  
“I’m worried about the growing conflict……If one demon wreaked so much havoc on Verona with a family feud, what monster could be behind a conflict that wreaks havoc on nations?”  
Laurence frowned. “When families lead nations, it really is that simple to start a war……as simple as lighting a spark to a family feud, the conflict could last generations and cost tens of thousands of lives……”  
“Laurence, what if they call you to fight?” Romy clutched at her stomach, worried for their unborn child. What sort of world would this child be born into? No worse nor better than any other generation she told herself, but still she worried for the babe and for Laurence.   
“I won’t be asked to fight, but I likely will be sought as a surgeon…..” Laurence could not dismiss the inevitability that he, in all likelihood, would be conscripted.   
“Did you have another vision?” He queried perceptively.   
Romy nodded absently, still trying to understand why she had such vivid flashes of memory or premonition. She could see a place that didn’t yet exist……Schonbrunn Palace and the Palace of Versailles…..faces of people that were not yet born……..  
“I don’t understand everything I see,” she told him abjectly.   
“Most people do not understand everything they see in a vision……Maybe you should write it down and bring it to the Bishop?” Laurence suggested.   
“No-“ Romy shook her head vehemently…..”If what I am seeing is the future, then it can still be changed….I don’t want to influence events by sharing them with people that should not know…..even well intentioned people could cause unintentional harm knowing too much about their own futures; imagine how much more so a manipulative demon in hiding!”   
Laurence pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You must be having the visions for a reason, though.” He placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder and then patted her hand. “But I won’t ask you to disclose anything to anyone unless you feel comfortable.”   
To think that in this very room they once argued about whether to share information with Julius……  
Julius!   
Romy jumped at the thought. Perhaps Julius could help them to glean more information. She decided to write to him in code when Laurence left for the city council meeting at the Church. Verona had to decide whether or not to join the League of Venice. The French would soon be at their doorstep.  
Romy flourished her quill pen as she swirled it in and out of the ink well. She sent the letter by a private courier, the same man who had loyally served her father for years. The same who delivered her message to Tours. Romy didn’t wish to take any chances.   
She took a nap and dreamed in French. A language she had never studied.   
She didn’t understand any of it when she woke up.   
Romy stoked the fire in the hearth and shivered, not from the cold, but from the realization that Laurence should have returned by now, and yet he had not. She wondered, what could have kept him? Perhaps the situation was more grave than they thought ?  
A sudden knock upon the door startled her into motion. She shuffled forward to find Paris standing there. 

“Paris? What’s wrong?” Romy could barely form the words to her question.   
“Francesca has passed away…..” Paris lowered his eyes, still unable to face Romy directly. “Her husband has sued Laurence and blamed him for her death. I have no choice but to detain him for further questioning until the trial.”  
“What?!” Romy could braced herself against the doorway to prevent from crumpling.   
“We have only ever done them good! It is not Laurence’s fault that she became pregnant again so soon! He warned them both that they could not have any more children after the operation or this would be the likely outcome!” Romy wanted to testify on Laurence’s behalf. She wanted to defend the man she loved.   
“Do not speak to Francesca’s husband…..” Paris warned solemnly, putting one hand tentatively forward to push her back across the threshold of her own house. He touched her shoulder hesitantly but forcefully enough. He was careful as he did not wish her to misconstrue his gesture.   
“He is grieving. Wait until after the funeral. He may drop all the charges.”   
Romy nodded choking back her angry tears.   
As Paris turned, she closed the door and sank back against it, crumpling to the floor with a stifled sob. 

  
However Paris had managed to convince him, or perhaps because Benvolio and Mercutio kept shaming him, Francesca’s husband did drop the charges and gave an official apology after the funeral. He also left town, along with a strange legal order delivered to Paris and the Bishop. 

“Brother Laurence, having never done anyone in our town any harm, I must ask for your forgiveness for the recent accusations I brought against you. Such was contrary to Christian charity and prudence. It is with this document that I hereby grant you and your wife legal custody of my three children until I return. I ask that you be their godparents and legal guardians, until such time as God favors me and grants that I may return. I cannot say if or when that should be, as only Providence knows if he should grant me a new wife and mother for my children. My own heart is too heavy with grief to consider it at this time, and I know that my children will be well looked after in your home. I have pledged myself to the service of the League of Venice. I ask that you pray for my protection, and safe deliverance.”   
When Laurence returned, Romy embraced him wholeheartedly, without any reservations. Paris was embarrassed and coughed lightly as he handed the wrinkled document to Romy.   
She hadn’t even noticed that Benvolio’s wagon was piled high with provisions and three children…..  
The eldest daughter was eleven, and called Resede. The next child, a precocious boy, age eight was named Sergi, and the youngest one whom Laurence had saved was called Marco.   
So just like that, as the leaves turned gold and crimson and fell to the ground, followed by the hush of new snow-they had entered a new chapter in their lives. They were no longer newlyweds unburdened in the world. They had four children. 

Romy and Resede had put up the Christmas trimmings, adorning their little cottage from ceiling to floor while Sergi played with a wooden toy that Signore Mercutio had carved for him. They had baked hot cross buns, and Romy taught Resede how to make the lozenges for the apothecary. Little Resede had said she wanted to be a healer, just like Laurence and Romy.   
Romy laughed and said she could be anything she wanted, and thanked her for her help.   
They made candied apples too and had a great time of it.  
It was the evening of the first snowfall of winter, when Romy awoke in a splash of water.   
She remembered feeling embarrassed and then she stood up and felt a sharp contraction.   
Her baby was coming now!   
Thankfully, Laurence was home and not trapped at a neighbor’s house during the snowfall. He had been more cautious to remain at home since his “arrest,” followed shortly by his adoptive father the Bishop’s passing. 

For Romy the next several hours were blotted out of her memory as stress and pain, but the only memory she held onto was the memory of that cry, and those sweet gray eyes when Laurence placed their newborn into her arms……  
It was a daughter.   
Romy thanked God quietly, for daughters might have difficulty in childbirth but would never be called upon to serve in war. She hated to think of raising her sons to serve in a conflict that fed demons. A waste of tears and blood that would never satisfy rich and greedy kings.   
Sergi said that he wanted to follow his father into battle, but Romy kept quiet, knowing that he was too young to know what such things meant. 

Welcome to the world Hope…….Romy rocked her in her arms, saying a silent prayer. There had to be some good God looking out over this bleak and desolate world, as she saw the proof of it in Laurence’s eyes, even when he was strained and tired. She saw love. And that sweet gaze of innocent wonder in her daughter’s eyes, searching through blurry newborn eyes for her parents’ faces-Romy would ensure that she knew only love. For she was their Hope for the future, that there was some good in this world and that life was worth living.


	4. A Twist of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romy and Laurence reunite with an old friend as they are forced to flee Verona and take sanctuary with the Duke of Milan.

“Hold still, Romy…..” Laurence was determined albeit a little impatient when he was so focused.  
“I’m trying!” Romy whined as she strained to keep her eye open against the glaring light Laurence kept shining in her face.  
Laurence was testing a new apparatus. He had a little box that held a candle with a mirror and a slit to direct the light from the flame. He was constantly sliding the mirror back in forth in front of her eyes trying to “focus” the reflection of the light.  
Whether he was gleaning any useful information from this, or merely torturing her for his amusement, Romy couldn’t say.  
Laurence loved glass blowing. A hobby he had taken up while in the church, and often in the past he made harmless, dainty little constructs like goblets and snow globes for Romy. But now, he had possession of an old notebook said to have belonged to Leonardo DaVinci, and he contrived to make a pair of spectacles for her.  
“There!” Laurence held a lens up to her eye and almost jumped with satisfied surprise.  
“But Laurence, I don’t want to wear spectacles! I will look like an old spinster…….”Romy might have become a mother, but she hadn’t lost her vanity……or her fashion sense.  
“Nonsense! I can’t imagine how foolish you will be running into things forever, squinting at your needlework……why it’s a wonder you lobbed the holy oil at Escalus and actually hit something! All these years and I never really knew you couldn’t see things until it was right in your face!  
Truly Romy, we are fortunate that you didn’t set Julius and I on fire……..”  
Romy grimaced, gritting her teeth, forming a scathing reply. “Well, in truth, if I see so terribly, then how do you know that you are really handsome, and I’m not just blind? I mean, if you fix my vision, aren’t you afraid I may change my opinion of you?”  
****”KOFF!”***** Laurence almost dropped the lenses as he double over suppressing his laughter. 

“A witty retort, Romy; but am I to assume you loved me only for my dashing good looks?” He smirked a little as he held up, Lord help her, a small monocle that so many aristocratic ladies used at the opera or for reading important legal documents.  
“I will not wear that….” Romy didn’t reply to his question……  
“Sigh…..” Laurence pretended to heave his shoulders in exasperation. “Well then, I suppose you didn’t fall in love with my mind or the sound of my voice…..When I’m old and gray, you’ll have no use for me.”  
He started shining the lamp in the other eye now, and Romy punched him. She stood up to storm out of their corner cellar.  
“I have to check on the children!” She almost tripped on the step beneath the stoop as she was still seeing bright pink spots from Laurence’s ‘experiment.’  
“No, Romy-They are with your parents, remember?”  
Laurence had procured a whole day for them to be alone, and Romy was about to go insane without them. Not that she didn’t enjoy Laurence’s company, but she worried that she was forgetting how to be together, just the two of them.  
“It is getting dark out, don’t you think we should go retrieve them?” Romy half turned, anxious to be away from Hope for so long.  
“No, Romy, your parents assured me that they wanted to keep them over the night.”  
Laurence had really made an effort today. He had packed a picnic lunch after the church mass. He had a meeting after church though with the representative from House Valois to arbitrate with the Habsburgs. The meeting ran long, and they didn’t get to have their luncheon, and so Romy had spent most of their ‘together’ day without her children or her husband. The agents from King Charles of Austria and Henry II of France were not supposed to arrive until next week, but an emergency council meeting had been called.  
As always, Romy tried not to complain, but Laurence sensed her disappointment.  
“Can you really not tell me what happened in the meeting?” Romy’s mind returned to her preoccupation with Verona’s safety.  
“Nothing has been decided yet,” Laurence placed his hand on her shoulder, extending the other hand to take hers and guide her up the steps.  
“Now come outside, we will eat our picnic dinner.” He handed her a shawl for warmth.  
“We will watch the sunset and the stars come up.”  
Romy’s face flushed at the invitation. Laurence did know how to be romantic and to make her feel like a lady. She had become so settled in her role as a helper and a mother, she scarcely felt like her former self anymore. It was not a trade that she resented-she loved her townspeople and her children, but sometimes when she looked in the mirror she wondered if she would recognize herself in a few years.  
And it wasn’t just because of her eyesight. She sometimes saw other faces looking back at her. She didn’t want to tell Laurence. Perhaps she was slowly losing her mind? 

She tried her best to sweep those thoughts aside and enjoy her evening with Laurence. She played the viola for him, something he always loved, and since they didn’t want to sneak into the church to play the organ after hours anymore, not since their battle with Escalus, they decided to climb up on top of the roof of their little cottage to watch the stars come out.  
Laurence knew all the constellations and had taught Romy the stories and legends behind each one.  
“Now see this little contraption!” Laurence held a slender metal tube with a lens at the front and at the back. “Some lenses make things bigger, others make them smaller, but if you separate them in combination!” He excitedly pressed the device into her hand. “Just look!”  
Romy gasped. As she looked through the little device, all the starbursts around each little star disappeared and each heavenly sphere magnified in intensity. Quickly, Romy pointed the device at the moon and was enchanted.  
“You really are so clever, Laurence!” She put the device down in the fold of her skirt, careful not to let it slide off the roof, she leaned over to place her hand atop his.  
“Ah, nonsense. I only stand on the shoulders of great men. This is merely a reconstruction of one of DaVinci’s contraptions……”  
“I think,” Romy traced his hand lightly, “That someone doesn’t give himself enough credit……..But you are already so bold, I don’t think I could live with you if you became arrogant as well.” She teased.  
Laurence leaned in to kiss her and she started to slide off the roof. She caught the telescope and he caught her. 

“Let’s go down now,” Laurence chuckled, evidently still startled at his wife’s near plummet from her perch over their abode. 

Romy nodded in agreement. Laurence went down a small ladder but she paused at the first rung and let him catch her.  
****Koff***** “You’re not as light as you used to be! Give me some warning next time, will you?” He stumbled but he caught her.  
Romy decided to let the insult slide. But only this once. 

The next morning, Romy took the children over to Lucetta’s house for a visit. Rosemary was already toddling and little Hope had just learned to sit up. Francesca’s……..no, now Romy’s older children, ran about playing as they caught butterflies and other summer creatures such as turtles and frogs.  
Romy loved to chat with Lucetta. She had not had such a close friendship with another woman since , since she swallowed hard at the thought, since Bellona’s death.  
Lucetta’s husband pulled up with Benvolio’s wagon. Something was wrong.  
“Where is Benvolio?” Romy’s voice could not conceal the quaver of worry.  
“Lucetta darling, you should go inside- Signora Romy I think you should go directly to your father’s house and stay there until you are further instructed.”  
A chill entered her bones. “Where is my husband, sir?” There had been another council meeting this morning, but now the church bell’s tolled as though there had been a death!  
“Where is Laurence?!” She repeated her question more urgently, it was not a request, but a demand.  
Lucetta’s husband looked abjectly to the side.  
“There has been a poisoning, Ma’m. The The courier from the House Valois has been assassinated and they suspect Laurence…..He’s been placed under arrest again.”  
“What?” Romy was astonished and outraged. After all he had done for the people of this town, were there really so many who hated them because they ousted Escalus? Or still hated them because of their Montague ties? Were there some who did not believe that Escalus had been a demon?  
Anyone who knew Laurence knew him to be a kind and benevolent person. Perhaps so much so that he was an easy target to serve as a scape goat and cover for their misdeeds.  
“How could anyone think that?” Lucetta had not gone in the house as her husband instructed. She stood in the doorway, holding baby Rosemary.  
“Benvolio has been arrested, too,” his face contorted in frustration as he recounted the day’s events to Romy. “It is possible they will come for you, Signora Romy! You must hurry to your father’s house at once so they cannot apprehend you!” He rushed Romy to the wagon. “They will be waiting at your house! A poison that is normally used as a medicine in your shop was found near the dead man…….”  
It was suddenly starting to make sense. Some of the herbs that they used for Dwale sedative could cause hallucination or death if taken in large quantity. Also, arsenic, was a commonly used drug in small doses for certain infections, commonly used to poison rats or other vermin in larger doses. Laurence had often repeated the adage that the only difference between poison and medicine was dosage.  
“But that doesn’t prove that Laurence gave the man the poison! Any one of our clients, or someone who stole from our clients could have procured the powder in the vial!” Romy was angry now. Did they blame Benvolio also since he helped with deliveries? She worried if they implicated him.  
“Of course, Ms. Romy! That is why you must hurry!” But it was already too late. Resede and Sergei stopped playing. Sergei had been chasing his sister with a frog in his outstretched hands, and now their carefree laughter fell silent at the pounding hooves driving clouds of dust before them, as a contingent from Paris’ guard blocked the roadway and surrounded them.  
Baby Hope cried and Resede raced for her to comfort her, but when she tried to press the little girl into Romy’s outstretched arms, the gaurds mercilessly restrained her.  
“Montague witch!” People from Capulet household servants had not forgotten her nor embraced the cities peace. “She has deceived everyone! Her Dwale makes people see spirits and demons while her husband cuts on them! Witchcraft!” 

One of them was waving the little telescope, a little trophy they must have stolen from Laurence. Romy’s hand flew over her mouth as tears fell down her face. She prayed that Laurence was alive. She prayed as they dragged her away without protest that she would see her children again.  
She thought they would at least take her to Paris or to a cell to be with Laurence.  
They did not.  
They threw her into a black pit of a dungeon, one which perhaps used to be a catacomb for the church. Romy shrieked and sobbed, but all her cries were muffled as if she were sealed underground, buried alive.  
Eventually she ceased crying and tried to slow her breathing, remembering the stars. Remembering Laurence’s kiss.  
Remembering baby Hope’s eyes. She longed to comb through Resede’s shimmering golden hair in the morning. She missed chasing after Sergei, who was always covered in dirt, with her dish rag.  
She missed the smell of herbs in her garden and the taste of honey in her tea.  
And she had only been here one night. Hadn’t she? She did not know if it was day.  
She thought surely someone would come and take her to the city council for a trial. Or that any time her father would intervene on her behalf……  
But what if ……what if the mob had not taken her to the city jail but hidden her in some forgotten crevice and sealed her away to die?  
Romy began to shout. She shouted until she was hoarse.  
Then at last, a torch lit the bleak walls of the dripping, dank, dirty corridor.  
And then there it was……the scent of Roses.  
“Julius?”  
Julius hastily unlocked the cell door and grabbed Romy firmly by the hand.  
“Be silent! We have to hurry!”  
“We really must stop meeting like this!” She whispered, and then he shushed her again. She had never been so glad to see him since he had surprised her with his resurrection in the church.  
Julius always knew when trouble was brewing, and was always one step ahead. He must have received her letters or word of the council meeting!  
She followed him eagerly, all too eager to put the dismal,grave- like dungeon behind her. 

Julius led her to a small grove in the woods. It was a place she had frequented often with Laurence when they tended the vineyards or the bees behind the Abby.  
“Laurence!” Romy raced to embrace him. She buried her face in his cloak and breathed in deeply the scent of herbs off his clothes.  
“Romy, you smell!” He pushed her back a little to take a look at her.  
“I’ve been locked in hell and you worry that I stink?” She turned to look at Julius who stood shaking his head.  
“There isn’t time for this!” Julius motioned to an enclosed carriage. Their children and many belongings were already piled on board, and one of her father’s servants was the coach man. Romy’s heart leapt for joy at the sight of Resede’s face pressed up against the coach window.  
“Julius, however you managed, I thank you!” Romy placed her arm on his. He jumped slightly at her touch and his eyes softened. “You can thank me later, just hurry!”  
Romy and Laurence piled in with their children, and little Sergei reminded Romy that she stunk.  
Julius hopped aboard the top of the coach next to the driver.  
“Where are we going?” Laurence pulled the door closed and latched it, covering the little window with a curtain.  
“We are going to Milan, to the Duke of Sforza where Julius has been serving as a captain…..” Laurence answered.  
Romy’s heart raced. The Duke of Milan? The man who sought to ally with both sides? Then Julius might be at the center of the conflict.  
“Will we truly be safer there?” Romy dared to ask in front of the children.  
“We are safest in the company of friends,” Laurence placed one hand over Romy’s dirt covered fingers, and held Sergei in one arm. Resede sat next to Romy and leaned in next to her, in spite of the grime covering her garments. Romy clutched baby Hope, unwilling to ever let go.  
The carriage lurched as the wheels churned steadily to Milan, and Romy leaned her head back only half asleep. She seemed to recall another harried escape by carriage. Marie……..Auguste………..Lafayette……………Fersen…………. They had fled also. Where were they now?  
How had it ended for them? Romy must have moaned, distressed in her half dreamlike state.  
Laurence dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief saturated in lavender.  
The smell of Lavender and of roses eased her worried mind. As long as she was with these two men she trusted, everything would turn out fine.


	5. The Play is the Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romy, Laurence, and Julius must disguise themselves as playwrights to perform before Lady Bona Sforza of Milan, in hopes of gaining an audience with her and winning an ally to their cause. Little do they know that they are being further drawn into the international intrigue that threatens to consume Italy.

When they arrived in Milan, matters had become increasingly complex. That was the polite way to phrase it. The old Duke of Milan, Gian Sforza, had died, and his uncle assumed power, threatening to chase the widowed Duchess Isabella Sforza of Milan and her daughters from their inheritance.   
When they arrived at the city gate, Julius paid an informant who advised him that the Spanish born widow had fled Milan for her estate in Bari. Her eldest daughter, Bona Sforza was allowed to remain as she was considered eligible for marriage to her cousin, Ludovico’s son.   
Whether she remained of her own free choice, and sought to ease tensions between the new Duke Ludovico and her mother, or whether she was a hostage, Julius was uncertain.   
Julius suspected that there might have been foul play in the death of her father, Gian Sforza, who had been his employer.   
“Romy, I need you and Laurence to help me,” Julius was earnest in his request.   
Romy shook her head only slightly, as she was hesitant. Milan was supposed to be their refuge, and now they found the city in turmoil. 

“I think we should leave,” she could hardly meet Julius’ gaze as she announced her opinion. 

“The Romy I know would never have backed down for fear of danger; I have sworn an oath to this family, I must investigate this murder!” Julius was already convinced. His burning desire to know the truth and his commitment to justice could not be dissuaded. 

“I know, but I have the children to think of now,” Romy was cautious. 

“Hmmmm, you are right……..but there is a way we can protect them and still get closer to answers…..” Julius was forming a plan, and Romy feared she and Laurence had little choice but to accept it, regardless of her reservations. 

“I will take the children to the widowed Duchess Isabella de Sforza in Bari. You and Laurence can serve as Bona Sforza’s personal physician and Lady in Waiting!”  
Romy went pale and stiffened. She had never considered herself anyone’s servant…….she thought about how Bellona, her trusted friend, family member, and confidante had served her so loyally. It would not be right to pose as this woman’s friend, merely to serve as an informant. 

Romy shook her head, “It is too risky. If word of our arrest in Verona reaches Milan, we will be sent to prison or worse, extradited back to Verona for a rigged trial……Besides, I cannot pose as this woman’s friend when I don’t know her! How can you be so certain she would even receive us?”

Romy stopped, startled, her eyes widening with sudden realization. 

“Julius,” she took on an almost interrogative tone, “What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Bona Sforza?” 

Julius looked abjectly forlorn, and cast his gaze downward. His avoidance of eye contact in the face of Romy’s direct questioning confirmed her suspicion in an instant.   
“I was good friends with her father,” Julius replied flimsily. 

Romy raised her brow and placed her hands on her hips. “And good friends with Bona as well?” She already had her answer. 

“Please, Romy,” Julius pleaded with those puppy-like eyes. Did Romy imagine that those eyes nearly brimmed with earnest tears?   
“I haven’t been this close to anyone since I lost Bellona………I can’t lose her, too…… I was mistaken, as I failed to realize Bellona’s true worth until it was too late, and now I-“  
“Its alright, Julius-“ Romy stopped him by stepping forward to extend her hand. “You have been a faithful friend to me, and I will help you. We all owe you much.”   
Romy smiled amidst the tears glistening in her own eyes; it was as though she was assuming Bellona’s role, serving Bona Sforza and Julius as Bellona had once done for her. In some strange way, helping Julius with this task might bring Romy peace with Bellona's death…….as though she were in some way honoring her, or completing her tasks. She had fought alongside Julius for the sake of Verona; now she would do so for the sake of the young couple’s happiness and also for the peace of both Milan and the whole of Italy. 

***********************************************  
The control of Milan was highly sought by both the Spanish and Austrian Habsburgs and the French Valois.   
Romy was certain that Bona would be able to help her acquire inside information. 

“I suggest, Romy, that you use a different name for yourself and Laurence, keeping your real identities secret to all except Bona. She will trust you implicitly as my emissaries……” Julius handed her a rose pendant. Romy bit her lip. Julius always wore this as a brooch on his gambeson. It had belonged to his mother.   
Romy accepted the token speechlessly as she pondered what names she might contrive for herself and Laurence.   
  
The next morning, she intended to enter Bona Sforza’s service, but they were flatly denied entrance at the gate of the Sforza estate. 

“Lady Bona is not receiving any visitors, as she is in mourning…..” The guardsmen informed her. 

“In mourning, or imprisoned in her own house?” Romy dared to counter. 

***Koff**** Laurence placed his hand over Romy’s gloved arm. “Forgive her impudence, sir, we will be going…..” 

Romy nearly stepped on Laurence's foot as she pressed a valuable gem from one of her pendants into the guard’s hands. “Surely you know when she will next make a public appearance? Even amongst her close relatives?” 

The guard hesitantly accepted the gem, and Laurence turned bright red at Romy’s daring insistence. Reckless. He grimaced and winced, waiting for the guard’s reply, unable to retreat, he stood rooted in place. 

Romy wasn’t paying any attention to him. She was searching the guard’s face earnestly for an answer. 

“There is to be a banquet to precede the betrothal negotiations for Bona and Ludovico’s heir………A troupe of players is set to appear for the evenings entertainment, but no one else will be granted entrance. I’m not sure how that helps you,” he slipped the gem in his pocket and stood straightened at his post, as though nothing else out of the ordinary had transpired. “I suggest you upstanding folks move along…….” His voice teased with sarcasm, but Romy simply bobbed her head politely, and thanked him by bidding him good day.   
As soon as they were beyond his sight and meandering down an alleyway, Laurence grabbed her by the shoulders. “What were you thinking?!”   
Romy almost laughed carelessly in his face. “I think, my dear Laurence, that you had better practice your acting!” 

And so it was that Romy and Laurence paid a troupe of gypsy players to permit them to join in preparing the festivities for Bona’s banquet.   
Romy was not simply content to join the players troupe, no-she insisted on leading it. “What is this you are presuming to perform? The Tragedy o f Arthur of Camelot? Isn’t that a French story of intrigue and infidelity? Hardly the thing you should perform before a wedding engagement-and scarcely appropriate as the French rendition is likely to offend an audience with Habsburg sympathies……”  
“The story is Welsh, Ma’m. Originally Arthur of Camlann……it is simply the most popular romance in French cycles now….. All the nobility love Lady Guinevere and Sir Lancelot…..”  
Romy guffawed a little. “What about the characters of Morgana the enchantress and Merlin the wizard in Arthur’s court? Seems to me that there is a lot under developed there……sometimes Morgana is an evil enchantress, other times the Lady of the Lake who gives Arthur the Sword Excalibur and takes him to the Isle of Avalon at the end of the play……Would you allow me to write a novel rendition?” 

The players looked alarmed. “It is best not to venture from the classics, Signora….. We wouldn’t wish to offend Duke Ludovico……”

“I think,” Romy pursed her lips already setting her quill in motion, “That we should design entertainment to intrigue Lady Bona Sforza…….She must have a great deal to consider prior to her marriage…..about duty to family, and to kingdom, and to country……as did the sister of Arthur, Lady Morgana when she was wed to Urience of Rheged though she secretly loved the wizard Myrridin whom you call Merlin……” Romy was quickly constructing a story from the sparse details about Morgana and Merlin from the different variants of the play.   
The elder playwright sought to remove the manuscript from Romy’s hands, but she clutched it to her bosom and he blushed, withdrawing his hand.   
Romy pursed her lips and smiled, “I promise, nothing shall be inappropriate and it shall be much more interesting a tale for a prospective bride than the tale of Guinevere and Lancelot……What is the use of performing something she has already heard or seen?”  
The group of ragtag gypsies looked disgruntled and forlorn, but Romy was paying them in addition to what they received from Ludovico, so they kept silent.   
A few days later, Romy was coaching a reproachful Laurence.   
“Your voice is flat and devoid of any emotion!” Romy waved her arms in exasperation. “You can't be King Arthur!" She sighed in aggravation. "You can be Merlin! All you have to do as Merlin should be to say a few lines in Latin and chant, you’re very good at that!” Laurence turned red and was obviously fuming but he was silent as he knew it was useless to argue with her.   
Julius had rejoined their retinue after safely delivering the children to Isabella Sforza in Bari. He made a rather convincing Lancelot. But Laurence, stubborn Laurence had wanted to play King Arthur and was simply ill equipped for the task.   
Romy reveled in her role as Lady Morgana, Queen of Orkney and Rheged, and she even had written an aria.   
Marie had loved to perform. Romy paused after rehearsal. She remembered herself on another stage….performing for friends and loved ones dear to her….She recalled Gabrielle singing for her at Christmas…………She paused her stitching on the costume she had been hemming. She suddenly crumpled forward, overwhelmed with tears.   
“Romy-“ Julius raced forward to steady her as she knelt over her work weeping unabashedly, albeit silently in between stifled sobs.   
“Are you worried for the children, Romy?” Julius asked. Romy shook her head, ashamed. She missed little Hope most of all, as she had never spent so many nights apart from her. How much might the little girl grow before she returned? What if Romy wasn’t there to see her take her first steps? She was ashamed and angry with herself for throwing her efforts unreservedly into this playwright endeavor and was immeasurably frustrated that she was constantly distracted with memories from this other life!  
She could never explain it to him. “Oh, Fersen…..” She shook her head, for a moment forgetting whom she was and with whom she was talking.   
“Fersen? Who is that? Are you well, Romy?” Julius handed her a handkerchief to dab at her tears. Marie……no, Romy Montague accepted it gratefully.   
“I’m fine, Julius…… I just……I thought you were someone else for a moment……”  
Julius watched her retreat abjectly, a shadow of the vivacious, lively friend he knew.   
He thought he might speak to Laurence about it, but they didn’t get the chance before the big performance of the night.   
Julius was superb in his fencing scenes; Laurence outdid himself with his Latin chanting and special effects for his part as Merlin. But Romy-Romy stole the show with her performance as Morgana.   
Everyone seemed moved by Romy’s rendition, if not a little surprised that the romance centered on Morgana and Merlin rather than primarily on Lancelot and Guinevere.   
Bona Sforza was riveted on Julius and perhaps a little suspicious of his relationship to Romy.   
At any rate, their play was successful in rousing her interest enough that she requested Romy meet with her in her personal chambers for entertainment after she retired from the banquet for the evening.   
Romy felt she could hardly claim credit for the script. After all, she felt certain that the true reason that Bona summoned her was because she had recognized Julius in spite of his wearing a mask throughout the performance. This was necessary to avoid arousing the suspicion of Ludovico.   
Laurence and Julius were not summoned to her quarters, as male visitors would not be appropriate.   
Romy clenched the rose pendant in her hand, prepared to meet with Bona Sforza. She felt great apprehension about meeting a woman of such great power, and she wondered if anyone had once felt that way about her, when she was Lady Montague. She remembered how alone she had felt as Marie...... A Queen, yet powerless and surrounded by critics.......Did Bona also likewise find herself friendless? If she was worthy of Julius' friendship, then Romy would do her utmost to be a true and forthright friend to this Duchess. 

Bona Sforza had light hair and dark eyes, pinned beneath a Tudor style head dress similar to that worn by her Spanish relative, Catherine of Aragon, Queen of England.   
“Your performance as Lady Morgana was most intriguing,” Bona Sforza did not ask for her name. She spoke to her with her back half turned, as though only half acknowledging one whom she presumed, was a low born gypsy.   
Romy tried not to be offended, knowing that Bona was not interested in her status, but in Julius.   
“I am delighted that you found the play to be of interest,” Romy replied waiting for her superior to continue.   
“Women in power are not often portrayed favorably,” Bona turned to face her as she sat at her writing desk and motioned for Romy to step forward. “Women are not supposed to yearn for power in their own right, but to be subservient to their husbands' and their fathers' wishes……two wills which are often at odds…..” She bit her lip pensively. “But your Morgana…..her father was murdered by Arthur’s father, and then she was married off as a bargaining chip by her half brother King Arthur……That he could pledge her to Urience of Rheged when she so clearly loved his friend Myrddin is callous indeed….” Her face was stone cold, her eyes glassy as she continued. “But women are not supposed to contradict their fate.”   
She looked up at Romy, a flicker of hope faintly glimmering before dissipating as she held out an envelope. “Please take this to Julius Capulet.”   
Romy held out her hand, to reveal the rose pendant. She exchanged the token for the letter, written in the same code that Julius had once used to communicate secretly with Bellona.   
“I was told to offer you this as proof……”  
“Silliness,” Bona coughed and smiled wryly. “I recognized him at once; but why would he choose you as his emissary?”   
“He knew he couldn’t get close to you, so he had to send a woman.” Romy kept her reply simple but Bona was not satisfied.   
“No, no- you two know each other……you are close…….how well do you know one another?”   
Bona was fiercely jealous and deeply suspicious. Perhaps, with the precariousness of her situation she had cause to be.   
“Please-do not misunderstand!” Romy pleaded. “I’m married and have children! My performance tonight was to satisfy a debt to Julius for conducting my children to safety.”   
“I see…..” Bona reclined slightly. “You must be Lady Montague!” She smiled perceptively. “Julius has often spoken about you, how he was quite taken with you. You have his respect. And mine as well, for you exercised a right few noblewomen would dare……you shunned your duty to your father’s inheritance and married beneath your status……”  
Romy’s chest tightened, the protests lodging in her throat.   
“I envy you,” Bona continued. “You disregarded all and found your love and your calling, your freedom….to travel as a physician’s wife, a midwife, an apothecary, a gypsy player…..”  
Bona sighed wearily. “I cannot be so carefree…….”  
“It is not Julius’ will that you marry Ludovico’s son!” Romy interrupted.   
Bona shushed her as someone brushed past the door to her chamber. The footsteps paused and lingered, and then passed by.   
“Ludovico thinks that he controls Milan but in reality, my inheritance and his are not ours to squabble over any longer. The city will fall first to the French and then to the Habsburgs. All will burn, Romy, unless we can reach a peaceable settlement.”   
Romy felt sympathy for Bona, and thought perhaps the woman felt compassion toward her city as she once felt for her own dear Verona.   
She could not imagine the ambition in the young woman’s heart.   
“Lady Montague, I need you to reprise your role as Morgana and deliver a message to the Queen Consort of the Ottomon Empire…….And another to my emissary who will find you after your performance. Can you do this for me? It is the only way to save Milan from burning, the only way that I can avoid marriage to Ludovico, and the only way that you can see your children again……”  
Romy stiffened. Did she have a choice? What did Lady Bona Sforza mean, that only if she helped would she see her children again…….she felt Julius’ trust in leaving them with Lady Isabella Sforza was misplaced.   
“I will, do whatever you ask….” Romy said with uncharacteristic submission. She had not felt such abject terror since she stood in the study, eyes glaring at her as she was met with false accusations and hurled insults in Versailles.   
She shook her head to clear away the distracting memories. The more tired and distressed she became, the harder it was to resist these memories or visions that pelted her persistently and mercilessly.  
“Do you love Julius Capulet?” Romy dared to ask.   
Bona was fumbling the rose pendant turning it over lightly in her hand. “I know how precious this is to him.” Bona looked up but stared abjectly past Romy as she carefully chose her reply. “I needed no proof of his loyalty. Nevertheless, he will be offended if I return his keepsake to him. Tell him, I will keep it to remember him by, and I will treasure his friendship always.”  
Did Romy imagine it, or where there tears in her eyes? The way she suggested friendship intimated that she did feel something more for Julius, but dared not to return his feelings.   
Romy left Bona’s chamber feeling despondent. She was not certain she could gain this woman’s trust and friendship, even if she fulfilled her task. A task which might require months........how long would she have to be away from her children just to journey to and from the court of the Ottomon Queen? The Ottomons were allied to the French.........But Bona's mother was Spanish and therefore connected to the Habsburgs..........Turmoil and confusion swirled through her head. Romy placed a gloved hand over her mouth, remembering the smell of smoke and fire. She feared she might be leading her loved ones and friends into a trap! But what could she say? How could she warn Julius? She could only decide whether or not to give him the instructions that Bona had penned.   
She felt like she was now a character in a play, and Bona the playwright had complete control over all their fates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that my portrayal of the events and historical persons mentioned in this fanfic is not meant to be historically accurate but is loosely based upon the Italian wars between the Valois family and the Habsburgs. The timeline, specific happenings, and nature of the historical persons mentioned is purely fictitious and therefore the characters should all be regarded as such and should not be intended to serve as an accurate reflection upon the historical figures or events which occurred between approximately1494 and 1559.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for further chapters! Romy and Laurence inherit a household of children, just as Romy confirms that she is carrying one of their own. Laurence is pulled into a world of dark intrigue amidst accusations of a poisoning, apparently derived from an herb in their shop! The darkness Mercutio foretold traces its routes all the way to the Vatican, and could lead the duo on an international mission of espionage to uncover a lost holy relic before it falls into the hands of…….you guessed it, another demon counterpart to Prince Escalus. If you weren’t turned off by all the renaissance medical jargon and dry business side of things, please keep reading.


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